Sad Robot
by Vulpes-Macrotis
Summary: Dirk Strider trudges through life out of necessity more than anything else. Nothing has ever made it worthwhile, and anything that does doesn't last. DirkJake. Robot AU. (DISCONTINUED)


We lived in the fresh new era of robotics. Companies worked day and night to design new bots to upstage others being built by their rivals. These were machines of war and law. Literal killing machines, created to do the work that humanity was to squeamish for. But I found these impractical. While big name agencies were pumping out drone after drone after drone, I tended to experiment with the more artistic forms of robotics from my own home. But these creations were my own. I occasionally gave one or two away to my best and only friend Roxy Lalonde, but I was sure no one else even knew they existed. But that was fine by me. Some things are best kept to yourself and those close to you.

* * *

Factories belched a black smog that thickened the air around the city. People hurried from one place to another, crowding the streets and roads with bodies and vehicles of all shapes colors and sizes. This was life in the bigger cities. I hated it, but it was financially impossible to go anywhere else. And as far as I knew the whole world was like this. Overpopulated, crowded and dirty and ugly. There was no color, no life despite the mass of bodies moving through the streets. It is impossible to smile at a stranger if their eyes are glued to their phones, tablets, gaming systems. It seemed as if the whole world was looking down. And it was lonely.

"Hey kid." I was brought out of my thoughts as a young woman tapped my shoulder. "Can we sit here?" With her she had five children, and was obviously close to having a sixth. People bred like rabbits. And there were only four seats on the bench. I hesitated for a moment and she lifted her brow, as if to say 'you're an insensitive prick'.

"Of course." I forfeited my seat and the woman corralled three children to the bench and sat down with the other two on each knee. She didn't even say thank you, not that I was expecting her to. But oh well. I didn't mind standing and the bus would be there soon anyway.

The bus ride home was loud, but I couldn't really focus on any conversation in particular. The voices blended together and I fell into thought as I usually did. The world was just to much to take in sometimes and keeping to my own mind seemed to help. And my thoughts were better company than most but I did almost miss my stop. Somehow I didn't care as I trudged up stairway after stairway on my way to my apartment, at the very top of the building. Such a chore. Oh well. I pushed the door open and the first thing that came to mind was how much I had let the place go. There was useless crap strewn everywhere. And that's all it was. Crap. I kicked a puppet on my way to my room.

"Hey Rox." I fell back on my bed with my phone on my chest, just staring at the ceiling. There wasn't even a pause until the text tone rang out, and I brought it up to see what she had said.

"hi strider"

"how was work today"

"Same old same old." I'd gotten fired that day. But Roxy had enough to worry about, and the last thing I wanted was to add something to the list. She was to sweet for that.

"well darn"

"hows that new bot comin along then"

"you still workin on him" Ah, yes. That one. She'd been asking about him a lot, and sometimes I regretted telling her about him. He was just an experiment but she seemed to really want me to finish him.

"Yeah. Sort of. I'm kind of stumped, I don't know what to do next, he's really complicated."

"boy nothin got solved layin around like a lump"

"and i know ur layin around like a lump"

"you should go finish him"

So I did. I willed myself out of bed like I was used to doing every single morning and moved to the spare room, which I used as a sort of work area for my own personal projects. There were quite a few unfinished projects sitting on shelves and in desk drawers. Small things I deemed unworthy of completion. Eyesores, more like. I only kept them because Roxy enjoyed messing with them and inspecting their parts, asking me what did what. She never really got it though, and if she did she was usually to tipsy to remember for very long. Actually, there weren't that many finished projects in the room at all. One of my favorite completed bots, Squarewave, had been malfunctioning for several months. He sat in the corner without his battery pack for the time being.

My main focus had been in completing an older project. I hadn't named him yet, that was usually something I saved for last. He was the most difficult bot I had attempted since Sawtooth, who had long since broken down. A pity. Sawtooth and Squarewave had been my pride and joy, while they lasted. But all good things come to an end one way or another.

I pulled the dust cover away and kicked it into the corner. He was on the floor with his back propped against the wall and his head down. It seemed almost as if he was just sleeping. My robot was still missing pieces, I realized. I hadn't worked on him in a while and it took a few minutes of searching through desk drawers before I finally retrieved the metal sleeve that would be fitted over his hand mechanism. I had even gone as far as to install sensory pads on the tips of the fingers and in the palms. If I ever figured out how to start him up, he would truly be a masterpiece.

After getting the sleeve attached I did a quick inspection to see what other easy things I could tinker with before tackling the real problem. Really, there wasn't much left to do. I cleaned up some sloppy late-night work I had done on one of his eyes and fixed a crooked sensory pad in his other hand. Everything else was perfect. With a quiet sigh I opened up the panel on his abdomen and began by making sure all wires were attached correctly to the core. This had been my problem in the past. Many times I had attempted to start him up to test different mechanisms, but never once had it worked. He would sputter for a minute and turn back off. But as I was checking again… I noticed the thin yellow wire hanging loosely where it should have been connected. I quickly attached it and closed up the panel, reaching for his battery pack.

"Who am I?" Those were the first words out of his voice box. At least the box worked, I'd worked on it for weeks.

"Hi. Before we do anything, can you move your fingers for me?" The robot lifted his arms and wiggled his fingers. "Good. Touch each finger to your thumb." I demonstrated with one hand and he mimicked me exactly. Good. "Try rolling your shoulders." He did this too, with a small amount of difficulty in some points. It would be fine though. "Now see if you can get up and walk." My new robot used the wall to help himself up into a standing position, but he was wobbly. He tried to take a step but his balance was all wrong and he grabbed the wall again.

"I can't," came his reply.

"Yes you can." I stepped back and held out my arms. "Walk over to me." With unsure steps, the robot slowly made his way over to me. When he got close enough, he reached out and grabbed my arms to steady himself. He blinked and rubbed the pad of his thumb over my skin, like it was fascinating to him.

"You're soft." He said, and I detected a sort of wonder in his voice.

"It's called skin," I said with a chuckle. He felt my arms for a little while longer until he got bored.

"Um… who am I?" He asked again.

"Hmmm, how about Crookjaw?" The robot took a minute to think. A long minute.

"What's your name?" He finally asked.

"Dirk Strider," I responded. He couldn't tell exactly what he was thinking, robots weren't very expressive.

"Can I get a name like yours?" He asked with a tilt of his head.

"Alright. What do you think about… Brian… Ryan… Jake, Jean, Brandon, Mike, Michael?" I threw out some suggestions. He was going to be picky. Might as well give him some choices.

"Jake. I like Jake." He decided. "I want to be Jake." Jake looked around and took a few uneven steps around the room. Wow. What a cutie.


End file.
